No bloody way
by OurLadyoftheBonBons
Summary: A SI that OurLady wrote for me. I have paid her back by posting it on her account. A modern girl shaken into the DA Universe. Just for s***s and giggles really. Some swearing because 'I' have a bit of a pottymouth.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, I'm a friend of OurLady, and I asked her to write something for me. I have a penchant for SI so inbetween her essays she has been drip feeding me this. I like it so I thought I would post it on her account. If you have any reviews I know it'll be a surprise. So the arent really chapters, just hunks of text. i'll clean up any new stuff she gives me, ta, thanks._

* * *

For once the guitar bag didn't seem too heavy and I hefted it over my shoulder and carried on walking. I was pretty sure that every part of my body was at that moment fuelled with anger. No make that fury. Everything that I had concentrated on for the last three years had been pulled from me by the one person that I thought would be there like I had been for him. A literal two and a half minute wait had turned into fifteen minutes then morphed into thirty five. I know I shouldn't have waited so long for him; it was utter stupidity on my behalf. But he'd promised and convinced me that he would pick me up and have me outside the hall for that one performance that would guarantee my life for the next four years. He didn't show. At all. As I sprinted, as much as I could with my stupid heels and that bag and my satchel, towards the hall I was still making excuses for him. Well not again. Ever again. I nearly ripped the handle off the door as I tried to open it. I was nearly an hour late. The only thing that could work in my favour was the fact my name had been nearly the last on the order sheet. But like everything that had worked against me, the door was locked. There were no lights. Cold dread oozed down my spine and I knew that yanking at the door was futile. It was finished. It was done. I was over. Then the cold dread was gone and it was hot rage. Yes, I like rage. It had me kicking off those stupid heels he had made me buy, saying that it would help my first impression with the judges. I kicked them into a bush and laughed, okay nearly cried, and stormed off, ignoring the holes shredding my pantyhose (yes that he had also made me buy) back the way I had come, though not at the same pace.

"Hey Banana, how did it go?"

Oh my god, yes he just said that. From the car that was crawling beside me as I kept moving. The window open, arm around a girl that was laughing as she took in the fact I was barefoot, probably leaving bloody footprints behind me as I stalked up that road. I could feel maniacal laughter bubbling from my chest but I didn't want that to be the last memory of me. Instead I stopped and turned to look his, shit he is still so handsome, smiling still my best friend face.

"Kane. Let me spell this out for you. Since the person who promised to drive me to my audition didn't turn up I was late. Too late."

My voice cracked at the end, at the last two words I had the petty satisfaction of seeing his face crumble as he realised it was him who had failed. The girl's mouth fell open and as she turned to look at him I saw the hickey on her neck. Oh, classy. Our big promises to each other had been thwarted by a girl with a short skirt and loose mor…was a slut. I walked away from him. To his credit, not that I was giving him any, I didn't hear the car rumble to follow me up the road. He knew that there was no coming back from that.

The guitar was the only thing I place with care back in my room. Even wiping it down like every other practise session. No finger marks marred its wooden body, and I settled it back into its stand. My hair tie I yanked out, relishing the tear of hair. The skirt (yes that he made me goddamn buy) I ripped off. Instead I pulled on my shittest jeans. Off came that stupid blouse (that was mine but I was still angry) vindictive and slightly misplaced pleasure at the pop of each button. As soon as I yanked down that singlet the tears did too and it was all over rover.

I lay on the bed knowing I would have to make plans. But there was a big blank. Everything that I had done had been on the road to going to college on that music scholarship, doing that work and getting that degree and learning from the best and…I didn't have a backup plan. I had ignored my life, apart from Kane more fool me, in order to do what I had to, to get what I needed. But there was just a blank. And I found that terrifying. There was simply just nothing. I didn't know what to do or who to go to or anything. If something had been less scary I would have called Kane, but I had never thought that he would be the cause of it. I wouldn't cry anymore. I needed to get my mind off it. So I turned to video games. That was what had brought Kane and me together. That and a mutual love of angry rock music. But I was damned if he was going to wreck this for me. My mother wouldn't be back for another couple of hours. And I wanted to delay a return to shitty reality for a while so I flicked the ps3 on and waited for the TV to warm up.

It wasn't quite paid off on my visa but I had clocked it twice and I still couldn't get enough. Yes the facial expressions of the character were pretty much non-existent but it was still awesome. And it made me grin. And it made me laugh. Then I realised that I talked more to the people (yes I know they aren't real) on the screen more than I had talked to anyone (yes apart from he who shall not be named…not Voldemort) for the last couple of manic weeks. Those words to…him had been the first that day. Until I pretend to be the warden. Even putting on the appropriate ethereal voice that could only belong to a slender, forest dwelling, beautiful but tough elvish warden. Apart from the fact we had the same coloured hair that was the end of similarities. Her hair was short, braided with feathers and beads; light purple eyes stared out from the twist of dappled tattoos. My hair was blonde but hung down my back, my eyes were light green and there were no tattoos on my face. A slight scar on my lip were I had bitten it when I had fallen down the stairs was. Also managing to break my ankle. But that's another story.

Maharial and I had just managed to kill that brood mother, all amazingly done, though flourishes and appropriate cool killer end move had been done only in my head, when the earthquake started. I ignored it, I normally did. Until the TV started to shuffle to the edge of the duchess. I paused the game (I'm not stupid, plus I'm pretty cool in a crisis…normally) and pushed the TV back against the wall before I took shelter under the doorway. But unlike all the other earthquakes this one didn't end. The noise became unbearable and the shaking got more violent. Now my brain is mostly, near totally logical and will break down situations into manageable chunks, but that teeny tiny little bit that was super irrational decided to rear its ugly little head and throw the chaos switch into red. I suddenly felt like the best option would be to run past the massive potentially shattering windows in the hall and gallop down the stairs (yes the ones that savagely raped my ankle bone) and go outside. Yes I did trip on the second stair down, smooth I know, I did manage to get my hands up before I planted my face on the next successive steps. But then it was black.

"Motherfucker."

Again yes smooth, thank you. The volume was already impressive. The echoes that sprung back at me were repeatingly so.

"Is someone there?"

Not so ready for the reply that was not that wonderful swear word. And that teeny tiny irrational beast still had a little energy and I shrunk back to hide and answer,

"No."

I even rolled eyes at myself. What a dick. And then logic was back. Echoes? In the middle of a back yard. No, no. Something is…oh shit. The night sky was super impressive, constellations I had never seen revolved above me, so bright it seemed it was the middle of the day. Rearing up from the stone ground I crouched against were the ruins of stone walls.

"Not the smartest one. They just seem to flock to you don't they."

Bitch. I christened her pretty instantaneously. The bitchy voiced one. I'm pretty sure that if she had been in the same boat as me she wouldn't have stood up and cooee-ed to anyone that was in sight…of the ruins of an ancient church in the middle of a swamp. Why this feeling of déjà vu already? No, no. No I don't bloody think so. Thank you very much crazy brain synapses. I stood, ignoring bitchy face and whoever else was there to ogle, (yes I said ogle) what the wang was going on (yes I said wang, deal with it).

"No I do not bloody think so."

"What don't you think?"

A man's voice from close by my ear was like an electric cattle prod to my back. Son of a bitch. I jumped, but also proudly I admit swot the voice (it's possible) with a nearly closed fist. It connected barely, thank god. Apparently tin cans can talk.

"Son of a bitch."

"Well aren't you a curious one."

Bitchy face. I turned to face her and damn near poked my eye out on the stick she carried. This I managed to swot away with more coordination. Though the furious expression on her face, and the glow of angry looking red around a hand meant that that had been a bad option. I did the only logical thing when faced by such a display. I went closer and squinted into her face. The glow brightened as if she were readying something fiery to burn me to crisp (how close I was in that thought only occurred to me later on that night/morning). Son of a bitch indeed. But to be extra sure I had to look down. Yes, there were her breasts, barelyeven string holding those puppies back. If I had been a bit shorter it wouldn't have been the stick that would have poked an eye out. If the night had been a bit colder if you know what I mean… (yeah, I know.)

"Morrigan. Well push me down the stairs and give me a concussion."

Again probably not the best thing to have done with the awesome powers of hindsight, but at least logic didn't have me a quivering wreck on the ground at my current predicament.

"And how do you know me?"

She said this with the arrogant air of always getting her way. But my cool, calm and collected mind put two and two together. Morrigan, man's voice and punching a tin can. Bloody Alistair. I spun away from the witch and clapped eyes on him. Oh, yeah. There he was. All hot and sweaty and looking really confused, and he has a sword drawn. It's pointed at me. Cool and also so not.

"Okay. How's about we all take a deep breath and we talk about this."

"How about you just talk?"

Another voice. Not what I imagined. Considering my warden had been an elf. And cool. And a woman. And not bloody Kane. Again I was smooth and not weird at all. I strode forward (I know, initiative) and poked my finger into his chest (losing some of its power being encased in metal but the gist was there),

"You can just bloody piss off."

The same lifting of an eyebrow that normally made me grin just made me frown. But he didn't flick my hand away. Instead he just looked down at me clearly amused. Cock. He was sweating too and his normally long brown hair was cut quite short and looked like it hadn't been washed for a few days. Then click. Not Kane. Cousland, but not Kane.

"Um, Finn?"

Kane's twin grunted at Alistair but didn't move. I could only guess. I had obviously entered a loading travel section of the game; my brain couldn't even send me to a fun part. I stepped back and pushed Kane/Finn away,

"Go play with the dark spawn I need a rest."

I plopped to the ground now realising how cold it was in a mind generated swamp without socks.


	2. Chapter 2

_Tada, the second chapter? is up. Please give me/us a review. Carry on._

* * *

My attempt at a break was denied pretty damn quickly. Not-Kane grabbed my arm before I had had time to properly get acquainted with the cold ground. Part of me was thankful for that, but my arm wasn't at being nearly pulled out of its socket. I looked at him outraged. It rolled off him like water off a duck's back…do they have ducks here, I mean they have chickens…Anyhoo. He kept a hard hold of my arm despite my attempts at twisting him loose. By the Gods he would pay for that later, provided he got rid of his armour and his arms were tied behind his back and he were perhaps asleep or comatose.

"We sense no dark spawn, though it is interesting you should know that. But he was actually drawing attention to those."

With a free hand he poked at the side of my head. I was nearly, nearly fast enough to bite him. Though that wouldn't have done me much good, covered as they were in leather and metal, and several noxious substances. It did make me feel better. Token gesture as it was. I had a piercing in my ear, but I would have assumed that women here probably had the same, I mean Zevran's present and all that…I wasn't wearing headphones…What the hell?! I lifted my free hand to investigate what the hell this punk was on about. Oh. Well. That certainly changes things. Instead of the simple sleeper in the curved shell of my upper ear, the ear kinda didn't finish there; it rose and well, pointed. The giggle wasn't my fault. It was entirely that bloody illogical monster again. No it wasn't. It was the fact that my mind wanted me to be an elf. Enough. Just enough. This time I shook Him off and staggered a step. Dragging in a breath to fuel not just the descent into madness laughter, but the mother of all pinches. Pain will do it right? Jolting the mind into resetting or something, right. Right? Nope. I did draw blood. Several times. All down my arm in an attempt to wake the hell up. I can see why Morrigan chuckled at me. Not sure what Alistair and Him were doing. Finally I squeezed the top of my nose and closed my eyes trying to just relax and coax the logic driven gal back to life. Let's review- Kane is a dick, earthquake, concussion and brain spasms leaving me in a pseudo virtual reality of the Wilds. With Morrigan, check we have a bitch. Alistair, check. Quite good looking and his sword has been sheathed. And Him. Kane's doppelganger Cousland…Finn was it? No mabari hound running around so we have a potential sore spot and also tells me that we still have to save that one from the marauding spawn and…Wait a minute. I am not sticking around for a long term gig. Eventually, soon if I have anything to say about it.

"She doesn't act how I thought one would act."

She can still hear you. And apparently really well with those ears. I opened an eye and catch him in my peripheral vision. I offer him a Look and he smirked again. He is a cock. Then I digest. One? One of what….No. I can make the leap. Ears, no elvish warden. I had no problem with just being me. No that's not true, I had enough trouble just being me thanks very much.

"How did you think one would act?"

"Less crazy."

I turned to look at all three. Morrigan was looking at me with interest, maybe she dug crazy. Maybe it took the spot light off her a little.

"You'd be surprised if I acted any less. But I'll cut you some slack, I realise what you run from."

"We are not running!"

Oh-kay. Note to self; do NOT piss the Unnamed One off. Too much. It was impressive, similar to the real life Kane. Except when he was really angry he got a British accent. Not so the case here. And though he was yelling at me, I could imagine how he was feeling. I had played a Human Warden first and I had been outraged at Howe. I had really liked Eleanor and Bryce. Oh and Gilmore, he would have been an awesome…I digress.

"An aside, any of you have a mirror?"

Did I have vallaslin too? Did I look like my Warden or just a normal (but still cool) elf? Apparently that question was odd and apparently didn't do much to dispel the whole crazy vibe I was nurturing. Pursing my lips I tried again,

"So the group of you, carefully not running, heading to Lothering huh?"

"How would you know that?"

Morrigan answered that one for me. Actually not hating Bitchy Face that much right now.

"It is the only village nearby; it would be the logical place to head."

The clap and whole charades 'you got it' gesture pointing at Morrigan with one hand and touching my nose with the other. Logical yes, suave? Hell no.

"But it is also not a place I would expect a lone Dalish to be heading to."

Oh. Hate is back.

"Well, in the midst of a blight, give them another target right."

Again, smooth. Oh and yay rhymes! Eyes narrowed at me, but it garnered a grin from Morrigan. She was fun.

"Why are you here?"

Serious twin was back, hand obviously resting purposefully on the sword that sat at his side. Not on his back, huh interesting observation ma'am.

"You mean aside from the horde of darkspawn broiling from the earth that destroyed the King's army and the king and the Warden line trudging on our heels?"

Ooops.

"I'm smelling the daisies my friend. Seriously? What about you? On a date, with a chaperone? Come on. We are all trying to keep our asses safe until someone comes up with a plan."

Why must I be cocky? Why can't I just try and get along? Is that a Jack Nicholson quote? What the hell is up with my brain at the moment? Maybe I'm dead.

"Is your clan nearby?"

"No clans pass through the Wilds."

And then she crossed her arms. That was that. I shook my head at Alistair.

"Then why are you here?"

Now there's a sensible question. I like you. Shut up brain. I crossed my arms, registering the black jeans and singlet not so pristine anymore. And totally inappropriate for my new environment and for the elf I was now apparently. Good one brain. Think, think!

"How about we walk and talk? I'm freezing bits off literally, and the sooner we get to Lothering the better for all concerned yeah?"

"And if we don't want you with us?"

I wish I had forethought and exercised it; instead I pointed at Morrigan and run my mouth off.

"You'll bring the meanest Witch of the Wilds, who would poison you if you ask her to make you dinner, or would engulf you in flames if you said anything, along with you on a journey through the Wilds which she openly prefers to anywhere else in the world on the say so of another Witch of the Wilds who is also a Dragon. A Dragon. Two Wardens and bitchy witch (cha ching!) versus the world huh and you want to nitpick about the Dalish Elf? I'm pretty sure Bob Dylan or Rage Against the Machine would write a song about this injustice."

Jeezus would my mouth ever just shut up! Cousland (we haven't yet been properly introduced) glared at me; Morrigan looked at me with a more calculating look. And Alistair looked like he was trying to hold back some laughter. I'm glad, I've lost a loved one I know a small victory when I see it.

"Er, shall we?"

I got a grunt in reply. I took it as a reasonably good sign and waited for all three to move past before I followed them meekly. By the way something to be said about those elves. Pretty impressive natural skills. I would have tripped and fallen into rather deep and murky looking water a thousand times in the first few hundred metres. But I'm like Legolas on snow, bitches! I keep any glee in check as I look at Him and Alistair floundering in their heavier armour. I can tell they are tired, near exhausted already. And though they are figments of my imagination I do feel sorry for them. More for Alistair than the other guy. Just saying.


	3. Chapter 3

I've figured out what NotOurLady was doing, so now she can get this story here with everyone else. So here you go

* * *

Walking sucks. My body is surprisingly resilient, but my mind is sick of it. Surely I can fast-forward this or something. Perhaps my mind is punishing me for some reason. I'm glad that Morrigan is here, just for the fact that she seems to know where to go. To me the trees are dark and menacing and I would probably have avoided moving through them in the dead of night, but the Witch seemed to be following a path. Behind her trudged Cousland, every so often I could see his jaw bugle as if he were reliving horrible memories, which I knew he would be. God now I feel guilty, while it wasn't and isn't real to me, to him it was. Does that make sense, shit. Part of me wanted to say sorry but how would I approach…this isn't real! I'm getting lost in this place. I must have smacked my forehead with my hand too loud because Alistair looked back at me. I waved. Plonker. He didn't smile but he slowed his pace so I caught up to him. Didn't occur to me to slow my own.

"Don't worry about him."

Insightful.

"He's been through a lot."

"The same could be said of you too you know."

He actually flinched this time I mentally face palmed.

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

Great way to buy time huh.

"About everything. Morrigan, that Wardens can sense dark spawn, that you knew we were Wardens, about the army…"

He trailed off, breathing hard. I don't think it was just from the walking. For my next time buyer I resorted to manners,

"I'm Ana…Maharial. By the way. I know of Morrigan because… (Ha) we know of Asha'bellanar."

She shoots she scores! He blushed, blushed!

"I am Alistair, Grey Warden. That is Finn Cousland, we're the only ones who…"

"I see. I'm sorry."

"For what that's worth."

Finn snorted from in front of us. Take the high moral ground, it's understandable Ana, just breathe, the battle must have been brutal and the murder of your family. Now I am really buying into this.

"And who are you to judge whether I am or not? Just because you are a jerk doesn't mean that you deserved what happened back there. No one did."

"What happened?"

Uh oh. He stopped and turned around; arms crossed a massive barrier in front of me.

"Did you think I would miss that massive army, the dark spawn and the light from the tower?"

"And the dragon?"

"Not the first time I've seen one."

Probably not the best time for sass.

"Who are you?"

Again roaring probably not a good thing to do even if Morrigan and Flemeth have concocted something to have the dark spawn swarming elsewheres. What does he want me to say, the truth? Hmm, that's not actually a bad idea perhaps it could end this concussion dream.

"To be honest -!"

"Once the petty squabbling has finished children, dawn is coming and we near the edge of the Wilds."

As one we glared at Morrigan, she took it really well. She was right, the trees had thinned and the ground had grown harder instead of the mush that had oozed up my toes and covered most of my jeans. It ended our conversation, Morrigan smirked and continued walking, dragging Finn back into line leaving Alistair and I again at the back.

"He's got a lot on his mind."

"Again something applicable to both of you. And me. But yeah you're right."

* * *

Alistair and Finn were mirrors of each other drawing their weapons and settling shields on their arms. Morrigan was glowing. I though just settled back for the show. Cue footsteps. That hound is huge! It was covered in filth; black blood covered its jaws and smattered its short coat. It's appearance checked the Wardens movements but when the spawn appeared it was on. The game has nothing on my imagination. Those things had an air of destruction around them, of utter death. They were like zombies, decaying humanoids with split wide mouths with jagged teeth and menacing eyes. But they moved with purpose, purpose that would see now the four of us dead. Their weapons were bloodied, red with human blood. The one in shining armour, a horned helmet was the leader, miming with a serrated blade across its throat what was in store for us. I was ready for fear and to cower back, but I was angry. Like I had been at Kane. I found myself striding forward to meet them. I'm not sure what I was supposed to do but I wanted to take them all on. My wrist was grabbed by Morrigan. I thought she would have wanted to see what I was going to do, but instead she shook her head. Another interesting occurrence, did she know she was in my mind? I shuddered as my mind went to the opposite. That this was reality and she knew I was going in for a pasting. Pasting equals death. Now the anger was fighting for dominance with fright. My heart pounded and I lost my breath. Finn charged with a yell, the Cousland blade hacking through a Hurlock. Black blood arced and I watched as Morrigan dropped my hand and cast devastating spells. Alistair thundered the solid edge of his shield into the face of one, taking the time as it reeled back with a destroyed jaw to take the attack of the next on its broad face. The mabari was in the midst of the battle, going for throats, savaging arms and legs. The spells lit the battlefield with flashes of red and blue. But the dominating colour was the black of spawn blood. God it was horrible and it was beautiful. Among the splashes of blood Morrigan's spells gave flashes of colour, bright reds and flashing purple and blues. One thing they hadn't really got in the game was the noise. Not just clashes of weapons, but grunts, yells and the sound of blade cutting and bludgeoning through flesh. Shields pounding into body and armour, the crackle of electricity as it danced through the hurlocks' bodies. The mabari was a growling machine, the gurgle of a Hurlock drowning in its own blood as the hound slashed its throat. And I was entranced. My ears (mine?) pricked at the sounds; little sparks of sounds had me turning my head slightly to capture them better. I wanted a weapon; I wanted them to teach me. I wanted to bash and crush spawn into death and beyond.

Cousland had the last and battered him to the ground. I found myself walking up, dainty feet more used to walking around a mossy forest floor picking their way around the destroyed bodies of spawn. It seemed to happen from down a tunnel of vision, but I drew Finn's knife from his back and ducked under his arm as he made to arrest my movement. I slid behind the Hurlock as it struggled to rise and I gripped its head and drew it hard across its throat. Take that you piece of shit. I've felt anger before, but not to something living before, well I guess spawn are sort of alive. I let it fall to the ground fully. I would like to say for the record, that I cleaned the knife before I spun it and offered it back to him. As soon as he had a grip on it, I used the rest of the bravado I had just shown to kneel and search the bodies for anything I slash we could use.

I watched the mabari damn near knock even Cousland over. I couldn't get over how big it was. It was up to his waist but was just a mass of muscle with teeth shaped like a dog. Alistair was rattling off the animals stats like it was a baseball card but I couldn't help but notice the way Cousland rubbed the animal's ears, with sad familiarity. I moved up, slightly heavier with some coins, what I think are health poultices and a few stones that looked like amethyst that had been soaked in blood. The mabari didn't really deign to notice me, trying to get into Cousland's pants at the time, but he did look at me out the corner of his eye.

"What was his name?"

"What?"

I stroked the animal right from the top of its head to the tip of its piddly little tail. It whipped it from side to side even harder. I took a breath and looked straight into Finn's face.

"You are sad. The mabari isn't the cause of it, but an aspect of it. Hence, what was your mabari called?"

He stuttered a bit before he gave a smile. It made him more handsome than Kane had been. I let my defences lower a bit. But only a tiny bit, like three millimetres.

"His name was Bran. He died on the tower, there were too many of them."

"That does seem to the theme of the last couple of days. Again, for what it is worth, I am sorry."

He didn't say thanks but he didn't shove it back in my face. It wasn't a victory, it sure as hell didn't feel like one, but it was a step in the right direction. Our cuddly time over I stepped back, allowing Alistair to take Finn's side as we moved away from the site of carnage. My hands were sticky and blackened from rummaging through spawn corpses, no amount of wiping on their 'clothing' or after a while my jeans would clean them. I sighed and flicked them in utter distain, trying not to smell the stench, there was a river through Lothering, perhaps I would be able to wash them there. But downstream, don't want to give anyone blight sickness.

* * *

"You are stronger than I think they thought you were."

Morrigan said after one of my particularly big sighs. I didn't look at her to answer.

"They thought I was? What about you?"

"Sometimes strength is something that is only carried on the inside."

"Like magic?"

She laughed, I hadn't thought it funny, or actually to be honest particularly insightful, perhaps it had been both. She didn't carry on the conversation, so instead I thought on the fight; on how perhaps this was reality. Like real reality not a projection of broken brain cells. I had physical sensation, still evidenced by the row of nail marks down my arm, smells were a massive check, temperatures had changed in our movement from the Wilds to the road to Lothering…I guess it could be possible. But it does beg the question, if true why me? Why a girl who can play guitar and not a big guy who can fight and kill and destroy? What the hell could I possibly bring to the party? The whole kill stab dark spawn and save the land party. Could it have something to do with this 'new' body of mine, shit is it mine? What if 'my' body was now under the direction of the elf warden? Wait a second, am I a warden, do I have the blight sickness, isn't that how Duncan comes across Maharial? I rubbed under my nose in case my flood of thoughts had caused a nose bleed.

"Morrigan, why did you grab me before?"

"You mean before you strode to your death in the midst of dark spawn? Apart from the fact you have shown no predilection for battle, whether as an elf you have some sort of skill in weaponless battle that I did not know about. Though you also show no predilection to being a dalish elf."

It was all true. My 'abilities' to being an elf had been affecting an appropriate voice and innate skills that my body had. But,

"How many dalish have you met?"

Touché. Even though she was right. Of course elves have a stereotype and I was not playing to it. Not so odd if she knew that she had known me for as long as I had actually been an elf. Surely now a nose bleed...nope.

"Do they have a plan?"

I asked Morrigan. I knew the conversation would be cut off, coming to the King's Highway as we were and Lothering and of course those bandits that just serve to piss me off, whatever species I am at the time.

"It does not seem to be apparent."

I don't think I hated her as much. She had been content to walk mostly next to me, and handled my sighs and mumblings for the past what, several hours.

"Do you think I will be involved?"

"Do you think you can help?"

Oooo loaded question my witchy friend. She was rewarded with a sigh. Her attention was taken by the bandits, their mouthy leader already rousing his 'team'? Finn loomed up. Yes, loomed is appropriate. I'm not sure whether that bandit was a moron or actually had some skills. Morrigan already had her staff ready in her hand when she added her two cents worth. I said nothing, but looked at the dead Templar rolled off to the side. A Templar had been bested by this group; surely there would have been some retribution for this from the Templars at the Chantry? I ignored all of them, including Alistair who I think tried to grab me as I moved past, I knelt next to the body and pulled the helmet from him. He looked like he was asleep. A small trail of blood from his mouth the only sign of his death. I reached around his neck and drew the locket over his head. I just lifted my head and looked at the leader who didn't speak.

"Perhaps we should just tell the Templars you have killed one of their own? Do you think they will let you live."

"Who are you-!"

"Do you think that we will?"

"Bitch."

I thanked god that my elvish body was as quick as it was. The Templar's shield I grabbed and held in front of me deflected the luckily clumsy anger fuelled attack. It also blocked somewhat the ball of ice that careened from Morrigan to smash the frail human body into the broadside of the cart. Lifting my head from behind that shape of metal to see Finn's weapon rise and fall almost mechanically. Alistair had moved closer…is he protecting me? Oh my god, what would happen to the whole space time continuum thing if Alistair dies protecting me after I made the situation escalate into battle!? Jeez why can't I use my powers for good. Face it, they are the only thing I am bringing to the table. Thanking every god I could think of, from my position behind the shield, that Alistair was more than a match for these guys, especially with Finn and the dog, the mabari not Morrigan. Ha, oh. I'm glad he didn't offer his hand to help me up. I managed to do that hopefully with some modicum of elvish grace.

"Why did that happen?"

Finn said, with a notable lack of venom and roar. He did pointedly look at me, I kept his gaze but gestured to the dead Templar.

"He needed someone to fight for him."

"He was a Templar, good riddance."

Of course she would say that.

"If that is the case then why do we fight against the spawn? He's a Templar, he's a mage. What about, he's a human, he's an elf, a dwarf? Is there a line to draw? What would be the point if we won't try for someone besides ourselves? We might as well just wait for the spawn here and let them kill us or drag us to the arch demon and give up."

No answer to that bee-atch.

"It would be easier. But not necessarily better. Nothing worth fighting for is easy or simple. If it wasn't the tough decision it would just be the decision, it wouldn't be a choice, it would just be the thing that we do."

I hope that the surprise I felt at what I had said and that it was coherent wasn't showing on my face. Instead I did try to embrace the elvish mojo. Can I use that? It doesn't fit but neither does ethereal natural spirituality that seemed to drip from their pores. I'll stick with mojo.


	4. Chapter 4

For the record it was not as pretty as a picture or a painting or anything. A fug of smoke and just shit hung low to the ground making everything murky. Shadows moved within it, I'm hoping that they are refugees and not like psychopathic killers lurking in the mist. There is a lilting sing song coming from the only really visible thing, the spire to the Chantry. I think I may have reflected the sneer that lifted Morrigan's lip. Alistair looked happy to be there, leaning over the stone fence with a sort of grin on his face. Maybe he thought they wouldn't even make it here. I tried to close out the bickering but it escalated into really mean shots at each other. By that I mean from Morrigan to Alistair.

"Pathetic, a grown man."

Whoa, that wasn't in the game. Totally inappropriate. I turned from my perusal of what I could see of Lothering to look at the two behind me. The witch really wasn't holding back and Alistair was physically shrinking back from the onslaught. I looked to Finn but he didn't look like he even knew how to attempt to stem the tide. I did. I hope that my body could dodge the flames or electricity that was undoubtedly gonna fry my ass. Taking a deep breath I strode forward and slapped her. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The next sequence of events surprised me. Morrigan's hand rose but to cover the instant red I had caused on her face not to send anything my way. My arm was grabbed again and I was spun behind a large metal clad body. I don't know if it was Alistair or Finn, and while I was awkwardly thankful for the decision and everything, this was my battle. When did I grow such a backbone. I twisted my arm all weird and managed to shimmy out from the grip and slide around him to face Morrigan.

"Enough! Did you not hear me before? This is hard enough and everything, everything has been taken from these two and they are given us in return. I realise its shitty for you, and yeah things are pissing you off but enough. He just lost the man that was his father, everything that he had just got destroyed and you are just being a bitch for the hell of it. If you absolutely need someone to rip into shreds than give me a go. I will give it back but maybe the effort you put in might make you a nicer person the rest of the time."

"Maharial you don't have to."

Alistair was quiet. Oh. Maybe he didn't appreciate the tiny elf standing up for him. I looked at him and he did, he looked like a lost little puppy. But when he met my eyes he seemed to shake it off a bit. I nodded and moved away. The mabari trotted after me and tried to goad me into patting him, which I did after putting up a token show of ignoring him. Yeah. It was too much. I could feel that little quivering in my chest that either presaged crying or that I was really cold. I tried to convince myself I was cold, I mean I was cold and wet with stupid clothing and everything, but this wasn't a temperature thing. I oozed to the ground and sat fully on the stone, my arm around the dog who snuffled my ear. This emotion was far beyond anything I had encountered, the anger at Kane, the disappointment at not getting to the audition to show them what I can do. I mean that had been mega, but face it. I mean I was lost, not even the relative security of my own familiar body, in what is proving to be not a hallucination but real life. In the middle of a very dangerous not human threat, about to descend further into chaos with a civil war and just horrible arguing between people who are supposed to be trying to save everyone. I mean I knew, knew that she was mean that's who she was I mean look where she came from, but ripping into a guy whose life is literally in the shitter? I don't expect everyone to get along, but did you have to actively try and destroy someone like that? The mabari whined a little, and the jaws that had scissored across and through spawn bodies now opened so he could lick the tears from my cheeks. I loved him then for that gesture, whether it was futile or what but I hugged him tighter,

"_Thanks Wolfie."_

I don't know if he appreciated the nickname but he didn't growl so I took it as an okay sign. I didn't listen to the words floating from behind me. The slap and the words had taken it out of me and all I really wanted was a hot coffee or a cookie or maybe just a hot meal.

"Ana."

I stood with alacrity. It took a little more time to meet her eye but I did. The redness was gone and there was no swelling.

"Morrigan, I'm sorry I shouldn't've done that."

"No, you probably shouldn't have, I did not enjoy it. But I understand."

"It won't happen again. Can we you know, get along?"

I didn't want to ask to be friends it was too early and maybe it would always be too soon. But maybe now we had an accord, of sorts. Alistair and Finn turned to face us, they had been talking quietly together but seeing Morrigan and I, headed towards the depressing doomed Lothering.

* * *

I knelt at the riverside, letting Finn talk to the three city elves that had been taken for a ride by the now very dead bandits. After rinsing my hands I rubbed the wetness over my face, getting rid of dried sweat dirt and any last trace of my tears (and of course dog saliva). I had my eyes scrunched closed, waiting for my resolve to harden enough to open them and look at my reflection in the water. It took longer than I thought; it was a presence at my side that had me whipping them open. Thanks Dog. It seemed to laugh at me. But my eyes were open and I quickly swapped its grin for the water. There was no sharp focus, but there was enough for me to have a rough idea what I was working with. I did look remarkably similar to the elf warden that I had created. But there was a more not human caste to my face, not just the ears marking my new species. My eyes were lighter too, quite a light purple, these too were slightly more cat eye shaped? I still looked around the same age that I had been, was, am. Damn it. I had lost some height though I think, but I guess I was the normal height for an elf, not that I had measured myself against the female elf nearer the bridge.

"I hate to break up this intimate moment with yourself, but can you spare yourself?"

I took a bit more time before I stood and nodding to Finn with a little smile. Wolf now swapped me for his most loved person and trotted so close to Finn he was nearly inside him. I nearly lost sight of them as he entered the fog, surprising the panic that surged in my chest. I felt useless. At seeing my new face my brain seemed to have reset. No scratch that, not reset it was on hibernate. Damn, I could feel the tears prickling again, I thought I might have been past that. I made no overt gesture, but managed to snag the line of moisture with a totally nonchalant hand wave. You know, even for the amount of time that I hadn't known either of Alistair or Finn, though of course indirectly the whole game thing…um…right. This time, the whole real person aspect knowing them, thinking back to standing up to Morrigan and worrying if I would get Alistair killed thing, there was quite a sense of emotion towards them. Granted yes, some of it was possibly misplaced anger for Kane via Finn, but for all my tiny and possibly useless body, I wanted to look after them. Jeez, maybe I was a mother hen in my last lifetime. I'm not sure if that extended to Morrigan, that one could look after herself, that was more than obvious, but Finn and Alistair, for being you know a royal bastard (still funny) and the son of a Teryn, they still seemed maybe the word was awkward. Though they could fight like motherfuckers. 'Scuse le French. But I'm more than a little certain that the treaties could take a backseat to ripping Loghain's limbs from his torso, and Howe's too of course. He hadn't come up in our 'conversations' yet, but there was still time. Glancing up, thankful that the little moment of autopilot still had me following the wall of armour in a reasonably straight line. He didn't move for the Chantry, nor did he make to head straight to the King's Way, instead he deviated towards the noise of the tavern. The best place to hear news, not propaganda that would come from the Chantry. I followed, eager to see the next addition to our 'gang'.


	5. Chapter 5

Oh my God she was beautiful. Pixels did no justice to the sexy red head who now stood to our defence. Stunning. Shit. Whoa. The shapeless but colourful robes slash sack that marked her a Chantry sister did nothing to detract from her beauty. Her accent was blatant French, no make that Orleisian if I'm here for a long time gotta start thinking like a local. I'll give it a shot. See how far it takes me. I felt like a gnome next to her. I bet she probably smelt nice too. I smelt like probably BO and dark spawn blood and mud and other stuff from the wilds. I sighed, plucking at the wet singlet trying not to draw attention to myself. Which as the only elf in the joint and dressed like I was, was pretty much impossible.

"He said what."

Not really a question. It was said terrifyingly low, a breath away from being followed up by a sword. I didn't blame Finn. This guy was a dick. He had been there. Whatever. He saw exactly what a deathly frightened man wanted too. Faced by the living terrors of the spawn and 'pulled out' by a man who wanted to see Cailan and by default the wardens' dead. Saved them my arse. I phased out for a few seconds musing on the fact that if Leiliana looked like she did, what Cailan would have looked like. Damn near blinding I'd say. I came back to myself as Leiliana stepped between Finn and the leader of Loghain's men. Not a smart place to be. So instead I moved into sight from behind the wall that was Finn and became the focus instead. Going against my plan of being a wallflower. Damn it, what was I thinking.

"I'm sorry. I thought you just said that the Wardens were to blame for your King's death and that there is a bounty on their heads?"

"That's exactly what I said."

His words sounded like, who the fuck are you? Leiliana was now looking at me like I was crazy, I wasn't too sure that I wasn't. Somewhere along the line I had found bravado and eerie calmness of purpose, I think it probably had something to do with natural Zen of the elf rather than the human adolescent crouching in her head.

"Oh. So he has sent you to look for any survivors then?"

"Yeah, found them too."

"Wouldn't it be more prudent to say that we found you?"

"What?"

That is the key to any magic trick, misdirection. Keep 'em busy over here, they won't see where the real magic happens. Until the tip of the purloined knife was now pressed against their Adam's apple. No one dared move. I was a crazy woman. Scratch that a crazy elf, no dalish elf. And those mothers are crazy.

"If you don't further the issue, take the message to Loghain that we know what really happened at Ostagar. If you wish to continue this conversation you won't be making it out of the tavern, let alone Lothering. Yeah?"

The stuttering nod was enough. I was impressed at myself. Perhaps I was scarier than I thought. It could have something to do with the two pissed off Wardens behind me. And the apostate. And the mabari whose growl was nonstop. But apart from that, I must have something. They did as I said, his men peeling off to leave the tavern, finally their captain sidled away, leaving his knife in my hand.

"I am glad that you could show them mercy."

Yeah, right. In your bra, if you have them here missy.

"That wasn't mercy. That was me thinking of the people in here who don't need to see any more bloodshed. There's gonna be a shit load without adding to it."

Crass. But nonetheless got my point across. Whatever had possessed me to do what I had just done slid away and I just felt awkward still holding the knife. I looked at it before sliding it into my belt loops – without slicing the belt too might add. I sent a thought to the stunning balls of the elf I inhabited; at least her sense of bravado and basic bollocks was still intact. I know Alistair was stuttering, I ignored everything, including the sister who was waiting to announce her announcement, and sat at an empty seat, just looking into the fire. I could eat a horse, literally, and it seems that is probably what is on the menu. Do they have menu's here? No one is eating, is the tavern even open for food? The panic this question raised in me sustained me a while. Until Alistair slid the drink below me, pulling out a chair for himself. I peered into the cup, full near to the brim with what I assumed was beer. I looked at him, he was already sculling his down. I lifted it, gingerly, and sipped. It was wet. I'd give it that. There wasn't much taste, but at least there wasn't anything floating in it and didn't seem to be poisonous.

"That was interesting."

He offered. I think that it was something to say to break the silence that for him was intolerable and for me was well, peaceful.

"What was?"

He looked at me as if I was the slow one of the group.

"You were just here right?"

"Alistair…Out of the fact surprise, surprise, Loghain has named all Wardens traitors, that you lot killed the King in murderous pique or the fact that I felt enough to want to give the man another nose…through his throat, which is the interesting one?"

"Oh, well when you put it in such a fashion, I guess all of it. But, the one thing…ha one! That I find interesting that you care at all and that how you spoke meant that you were part of the group."

Hmmm. I presumed that with my unceremonious arrival here in Ferelden, that I was locked into a contract with these folk. What was it that Flemeth said?

"Well, you are the only Wardens in Ferelden, yeah?"

He nodded.

"Basically it would seem then that the only means of ending the Blight would be the two of you. Taking a closer look at this: Two versus the rest of the world, basically, means that you need all the help you can get. I mean, Morrigan? I would rest my case there, apart from the fact that the Sister is attaching herself to our motley crew (ha!) as I speak."

Alistair turned to see Morrigan sneering, Finn shrugging and Leiliana looking more than a little earnestly at the tall Cousland. I heard him exhale out his nose, can't imagine what was going through his head at this time. But I suddenly found the whole thing hilarious. So I laughed. It was the dog, who approached me, sliding his nose onto my lap. Perhaps he thought the laughter akin or a prelude to tears. It wasn't. I smothered my chuckles into my drink, doing an Alistair and sculling the rest of the mug. The tavern hadn't really quietened at my laughter, that awful noise emanating from the mezzanine floor, what apparently some would call a bard, just grated. I seriously felt like gouging her eyes out, no doubt others not so au fait with music noise, felt a little of the same. I hunched my shoulders and turned to see Cousland trying to talk to the mercenary guy by the fire, Alistair at his side. Obviously my laughter had frightened even the tough Templar. Finn shook his head and the man tried again. I snapped…yeah again. I stood, aimed and threw my clay mug. It shattered just catching the railing below the woman as she took a deep breath to release it in spine curdling sound. Now everything stopped, apart from her scream.

"Thank Christ! Leave that poor instrument alone, it's like you're torturing a puppy. If you want to sing so badly, go to the Chantry, you can't shut them up over there."

She started to cry and ran to a door and disappeared. I grinned, happy with myself. I turned to see Finn looking at me, but not with anger, I think it was relief but I could be something else. I just looked at him before a flurry of colour topped with red sat beside me.

"Hello, couldn't stand it either. Though I think your manner of stopping her may have been a bit excessive."

I looked at the ridiculously good looking woman who spoke in yes dammit, an enchanting fashion.

"People already have frayed nerves, she wasn't really helping. I am Ana Maharial."

"Leiliana."

She offered her hand, I looked at it, not really sure as a dalish elf whether I should shake it or not, but she smiled and placed it back in her lap.

"So you'll be joining us?"

"Yes, Finn has been rather nice in letting me tag along."

"Ladies…erm, Lady, are you ready?"

I did the only thing I could do and poked my tongue out at the pile of tin and stood. Leiliana laughed, it was like a bell. I sound like an idiot.

"I'm assuming that you have a plan?"

"This time you assume correctly. If you can restrain your throwing arm, I'll tell you what I propose."

It was a good plan, breaking down our very brief stay in this progressively miserable town. Cousland, le dog and Morrigan, to the latter's disgust, would check out the Chanter's Board for quickly made coinage, Leiliana, Alistair and I would sell everything not of immediate use, using the cash to pay for armour for the Sister and I. Finn adding, quite pointlessly, that I had been of no use so far and it was only for his sense of honour that he didn't want to see me skewered. I gave him the finger. I think they thought it was some sort of Dalish thing, they can think whatever they want, it gave me a little sense of satisfaction. This feeling soon crashed and burned like a mofo. I hated clothes shopping at the best of times, now it was armour shopping. Made worse, by a thousand, because I was an elf, by passing the prejudice (which I hadn't really come across even back home) I was small. The armour not really so much. I was thankful to Leiliana, Alistair kind of stepped back, as she dug into bartering with the asshole that had the stuff, and helping me get it on. Then it happened. I kind of fell in love with Alistair. A bit, just a little. There was a little bit more skin on show then perhaps even the bard had planned, and the guy moved to check 'me' out a little. Alistair grabbed him, slapped him! Yes with those metal gloves on. I couldn't hear what he said, even with the massive ears of mine, but I think it was pretty juicy. Leiliana looked at the one sided exchange then looked at me.

"Chivalry is not dead then Ana."

"Oh, erm, no, yes. I guess not."

Yeah, smooth. She pulled me more around the side of the wagon, tsking and mumbling to herself.

"When I have time, I think that I can fix the leggings a bit, and perhaps shape the leather around your bust."

I flamed red. Leiliana did me a favour and pretended not to notice. Son of a bitch.

* * *

Though I had liked Sten quite a bit, when I wasn't physically beside the freaking giant, now I wasn't so sure. Compared to my new height, he literally towered over me; a solid brick shit house of what seemed like that scary held in check anger that only needed a tiny comment to set it off. But even for the solid realness of the Qunari who walked at the rear of the group I was walking on egg shells though he had yet to address me. Finn and Morrigan had met us by the bridge, blood speckled (not their own) ready to score some of the coinage promised by the Chantry. I had been hoping to bypass the Chantry and had lagged at the rear of the party. It seems that there had been a conversation about the Chantry that I had not been privy too. The hound, Morrigan and I were dumped at the entrance to the Chantry courtyard, the others disappearing into the massive doors. I waved and called out,

"Don't forget to ask if they have anything useful hiding in locked cabinets!"

Only Leiliana deigned to turn, but Finn physically turned her back shaking his head at me. I poked my tongue out at his back again it being the only thing I could think of to do. Now there was little to do but wait, and listen to the Chasind freak spouting on about the doom that faced us and how we were pretty much fucked. Morrigan was staring at him, I wanted to put a wager on how long it would take before he 'spontaneously combusted' but there wasn't even the shimmer of smoke.

"Forgotten how to set someone alight with your eyes huh."

I said to her. I got a grin. A fucken grin. From Morrigan. I hadn't even been trying. Then I realised if there hadn't been two Templars in close proximity to us then the man would be nothing but a pile of smouldering ashes by now. So I did the next best thing, I wandered over, hands clasped oh so nonchalantly behind my back. It would be interesting what he would have to say, not having the taint inside that he could spout on about. He spun as he was making a belaboured point and looked directly into my eyes and lost where he had been going. I gave him a hand,

"Darkness, destruction and inevitable death at the hands of the dark spawn?"

"Are you trying to egg him on or something? Does it look like he needs help?"

This from the Templar who I had the sneaking suspicion had a massive migraine.

"He doesn't really need it does he. No I was trying to speed him up so he would get to the root of the issue."

"I know I'm going to regret it…what is it?"

"The death of someone close to him. Am I right?"

The doomsayer drooped and I knew he was seeing his wife.

"My wife, she had hair like yours. The dark spawn dragged her off while I did nothing."

"There is nothing you could have done. Know that your wife is glad you are safe, would she want you to act in this fashion?"

He didn't react well to my logic. He roared and got into my face. I didn't appreciate it but I took a breath (which I shouldn't have done, I don't think tooth hygiene was high on the list of stuff to do at this point).

"How would you know what she wanted? I will never forget her screams."

"Because if I knew someone I loved was safe then that would be enough for me. No one is asking you to forget her, but remember the goodness of your wife and the love you had. Here you are doing nothing but frightening those who still have their loved ones."

Tears just leapt from his eyes and he hung his head. He started to walk away, who knows where he was heading.

"I have shamed her memory, forgive me. But there is nothing left for any of us."

I watched him go before looking at those who had taken his black words to heart.

"He is right. The dark spawn will kill all of us. There is nothing we can do."

Idiots.

"Are all of you so depressing? As long as you are alive there is hope. You will listen to one idiot and give up but aren't willing to dismiss his words as those born of grief. There is hope, as long as someone draws breath there is hope."

Mouths fell open as I guess they were surprised an elf, even a dalish, would speak to them. Let alone in that fashion. I have no idea what Morrigan was doing behind me. No she was probably rolling her eyes at me. Violently. Still their faces were dumbfounded and I was saved from their ineptitude and perhaps their eventual reply by the reappearance of Finn, Leiliana and Alistair. I just got a glare from the Cousland, I refrained from poking my tongue out again, it would lose its potency if I just kept reused the same trick. It was the mabari who walked with me, as if showing his approval for what I had said. I knew where we were headed, but did want to know if they had asked…Maron was it? The head Templar about that locked cabinet by the altar.

* * *

Again I was surprised by the real look of Bodahn and Sandal. The older dwarf was protecting his cowering 'son' as the Darkspawn destroyed everything in their path. Until Finn and Alistair led the charge, with Sten not far behind. I did the only thing I could with that single tiny knife dagger thing. I stood in front of the two dwarves, not that I would be much of an obstacle. I found watching the battle the natural observing skills of the elf came into play. I will say she but she slash I could focus on movement, capturing each sweep and swing of both my team and the spawn. My ears felt like they should be swivelling as each sound I seemed to be able to feel like a spark of electricity down my spine. I don't really know if it was a dalish thing or even city elves had this ability I guess I'd call it. A genlock decided that getting close to Leiliana as she fired arrow after arrow was a bit tricky and to go instead for the elf and dwarves. Its wide split mouth with sharp teeth opened even more and it rushed at me, no shield just a serrated looking blade it lifted above its head. It left itself wide open with that, the logical thing to do was step inside it's non-existent guard, yes the pointed end of my weapon first. It entered the genlock's mouth and erupted out the back of its head. With my free hand I caught its arm as it fell now nerveless before it struck me. A quick thanks to Leiliana that she had taken the time to help me with the armour I wore. I kept hold of my knife letting the weight of the yay dead spawn pull it free. I transferred its tainted weapon to my left hand and got ready for more.

But that was the end. The last going down still sparking from an electricity strike as an arrow jutted from its neck. It was awesome to see the surprise on Finn's face; I was more gracious than I could have been.

"What? Never seen a dead genlock before?"

See, gracious.


	6. Chapter 6

_Morrigan watched the elf from across the fire. They had left the doomed village of Lothering, with another few strays picked up, a red haired woman who was humming a nauseating song as she stirred the pot braced above the coals and the Qunari who hadn't endeared himself to any. But her eagle like gaze kept moving back to the elf. She had been intrigued by the elf that didn't seem to be used to her skin, a not quite gangly awkwardness. She herself found it nauseating, but it had caught something in Alistair who had several times moved to protect the woman, girl, in battle. Sure the 'elf' had shown herself to be tough, to be strong, slapping her had taken guts even she would admit, but that didn't equate to battle skills and she had been made, forcibly in some cases, to move behind her out of range. But now, hugging her knees close she seemed even younger than her eyes showed her to be. It had Leiliana who had fashioned the leathers to fit the elf, leggings and gauntlets were simple enough, but it had taken a bit more ingenuity for the 'sister' to find something more suited to the elf's smaller torso. But Ana had sloughed the garb as soon as they had set up camp and wore a child's outfit, loose cotton leggings and a shirt. She was pretty, Morrigan knew, she had a penchant for the shiny, for the aesthetically pleasing. As an elf she was of course lithe, a continuation of her slim pointed ears. Her eyes were like the pale purple of a striking piece of amethyst. There were subtle flashes of beads and ribbon in her pale hair. It had been cut practically short, but the touches of personality made her seem even more ethereal. The vallaslin was always striking no matter on which elven face it was on. Ana's was subtle, twisting seemingly in and out of sight, it was a masterpiece of art, in one instant it seemed a shadow in others as solid as a scar. But for all her beauty and her elf-ness, she had not been able to bluff her way out of interest in her appearance in the Wilds. She was part of no dalish scout group, she was an anomaly that had so far not shown a reason to keep around. She would bear more watching._

_Leiliana could see the eyes of the elf dart to the small lute she had managed to bring with her, sentiment this time something she hadn't been able to shelve away in her mind._

_"Do the dalish have musicians in their clans?"_

_The elf jerked up as if she had been caught doing something naughty. Ana coughed,_

_"We have storytellers and others who craft flutes. I don't really know if you can class them as musicians. Not like human bards anyway."_

_"Yet you look at the lute the same way I do. Would you like to play?"_

_Leiliana could see that Ana wanted to shake her head, but there was an eagerness in her face that made her retrieve the instrument, offering it to the elf. Ana took it with unbridled joy and reverence. Leiliana could see the practise and ease in her small hands as she strummed. Quick movements had the strings tuned. The waterfall of sound had Alistair and Finn moving to the fire. Ana didn't notice them. Sudden music filled the clearing, the mabari Finn had christened Wolf (after he wouldn't answer to anything else after Ana's impromptu nickname) moved to lie across Ana's feet, tongue lolling as he listened. Ana closed her eyes, the instrument was different to the guitars at home, but the feelings that rose with the beautiful sounds she coaxed from the strings was the same. Slowly the melodies changed and entwined, becoming suitably haunting and emotional. When the vibrations dulled and it was quiet once more she opened her eyes to see all of her new companions looking at her, even the Qunari though his gaze was still unfathomable._

_"Wow, Ana that was amazing."_

_There was no fighting the blush that flared at Alistair's words. Even Finn seemed moved to speak,_

_"If Mother had heard that she would have made you stay at the hall year round. It was beautiful."_

_Leiliana giggled,_

_"I had not thought that the dalish were capable of such skill Ana. Though perhaps it is just you."_

_Ana didn't think of answering, the words just fell out._

_"The song was inside the wood, I just let it out."_

_Morrigan's brows lifted; there were the dalish words that she had been expecting ever since she had met the walking contradiction. Ana offered it back to Leiliana before letting her now bereft hands fall to trace the cropped shapes of Wolf's ears._

God I was so embarrassed when I finished that song. I had forgotten those that sat around the fire. It felt like years since I had heard music let alone played something. The lute was slightly foreign, but responded well enough to what I knew of stringed instruments from…home? Wolf mumbled happily as I focussed on playing with his pricked ears, drool slowly forming from his slack chops. I shuffled my bare feet over to stop it from falling on my skin but continued the caress. Then I realised it had been the first time Finn had really spoken about home, and here it was without the fear and anger that I knew was still boiling under his skin. I lifted my head, and looked from between a length of braided hair that fell right into my eyes. He was looking at the fire, but there was a small smile on his face. I fancied that he was thinking about the good times of home. I wasn't ready for a question from Leiliana, though I should have been; I didn't think she had stopped talking since the tavern, bar when I was playing.

"Where is home Ana?"

My reaction was a smooth and suave widening of my eyes and I utterly froze. Am I the Maharial from a dalish clan? I ferociously wanted to consult the elf that sort of was in my head…in my instincts but there was no handy light spiritual voice that floated into my mind. Whatever I came up with it needed to be easily remembered and right now that was the dalish warden origin, without the warden part. But…

"My home? Where is yours sister?"

She was well trained. There was nothing on her face but sweet confusion. Goddamn why was she so pretty. Marjolaine's jab of a boyish haircut be damned.

"I am from Orlais. My home was the cloister in Lothering."

I just looked in her eyes and there I swear was the flicker that now she realised that I knew something was out of place. So she abandoned the line of questioning by looking to her concoction simmering over the fire. There was silence, perhaps Alistair and Finn looked between us but there was no rush to pursue that line of questioning. I just listened to the crack of flames and the low snore as a now sleeping Wolf dribbled directly onto my foot.

"Redcliffe?"

"It's not too far and I stand by what I said about Arl Eamon."

"Yes. His troops weren't at Ostagar, surely he would know something. Well anything would be news at this point."

Finn and Alistair were sitting together on the far side of the fire, between them I could see Bodahn and Sandal. The merchants had followed us, taking our well the Warden's protection in return for discounted goods. I returned focus to Finn who was rubbing his chin as he thought. I had thought it dark, fully night, but my vision was still good. Perhaps I could end this awkward silence, though it would require me to speak to Leiliana. Gently moving Wolf's massive and deceptively heavy head I moved to where she knelt closer to the fire.

"Leiliana, may I borrow your bow. I wish to loose a quiver of arrows."

She leant back to look at me, shielded her eyes from the glare of a fire with an angled hand. Perhaps when I said that she thought that a quiver meant frustration. Weel, that was true. She smiled and nodded gesturing to her tent. I moved to it and slung the quiver over my shoulder, setting the arrows for a smooth draw from my hip. Again the shiver of feeling of rightness as I gripped the bow. This was something else the elf knew. I relaxed, this wasn't my area of expertise. But my fingers were old hands as they played among the fletching. The first arrow was a smooth draw but it seems the human I was inside hadn't got their eye in, it hit what I aimed at but there was an awkwardness that was no doubt evident to the others. If they watched me, which I'm sure they did.

The next arrow was different. The elf stepped forward (metaphorically speaking) and I couldn't help but grin at the fluidity. Though I had been envious as I had seen Leiliana, archery was an elf skill. More specifically a dalish one. I was a hunter. I could see the shape of a deer in the whorling bark of the tree. I killed it with a shot that took out a lung and struck an artery of the heart. I wasn't hard of breath, but suddenly I felt sadness. Like there was something missing, or I had forgotten…damn it. This wasn't my sadness, this was hers. The spectre of the elf this body had been. I didn't really fully realise it but I understood it. Fuck that sounds so awkward and doesn't make sense. But I think I learnt something about the first Maharial and it flashed me a memory that was partly mine and partly hers. Her parents…how her mother couldn't live without her father and that last walk into shafts of moonlight. It seemed to nudge at something in the past in my mind that was lost to me. For now. With the last arrow I put aside her grief and concentrated on finding all the arrows, checking the metal heads before placing them back into the quiver.

"Seems that you are useful."

Finn said, his words made me angry, but then he offered a bowl of something that smelt like heaven. Literally like Leiliana had grabbed a handful of all that is goodness and light, cooked it then put it in a bowl. I was ravenous at this point just bear with me okay. I put the arrows and bow back against Leiliana's tent and sat on the ground by the fire, sipping at the gravy. My stomach growled at each taste and I closed my eyes to concentrate on that flavour.

"I think she likes it."

"Face it Alistair, you've lost the job as head cook."

Laughter. It was like sparks on the back of my lids.

"She can have it."

"Um, excuse me. Does 'she' want it?

Leiliana said, cutting into Finn and Alistair's conversation. I let their words fade to background noise, merging with the rumble of the fire and the crack of sap in the wood as it was devoured. As I ate I thought. A state that was amazing in itself right? I congratulated myself on being so calm, though I knew that it was only a matter of time before my mind tapped out and I became either a comatose head case or a puddle of ranting and wet tears. But for now I gave myself a pat on the back. That done I then thought on what I had felt as I centred myself with the elf and fired those arrows. I knew she was gone, though her instincts and what I guessed were habits that she had taken up over a lifetime still permeated the body she had had. But while I got that, there was something more in that feeling or feelings I had found. And then that memory was there more to it? Her parents yes I get that, but there was a sense of…that she had done that too. Given up because she had lost the thing that had defined her. OH MY GOD! Tamlen! My grip on the bowl tightened by a thousand and I found myself staring at a lump of meat (maybe rabbit) even as I tried to remember what he looked like. The real or first (depending on how you looked at it) Maharial had lost Tamlen to the mirror. But she wasn't tainted; maybe she had given up because she didn't have him anymore. And maybe whatever had brought me here (I should be committed right now, surely the Chantry has a place where they put all the crazies!) had…I need to have a rest. A hand on my shoulder made me drop my bowl, right onto Wolf. Though he didn't seem to mind just eating and licking at the mess over him.

"Oh Ana, I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you."

My breath came in little gasps, I think I was past startled but I managed a series of staccato nods. There was worry and surprise at my reaction. I slid sideways and moved away from Leiliana and the ring of heat from the fire. I was shaking; goose pimples had risen at finally getting it. I knew it was right, there was sense of rightness as those pieces fell into place. Maharial had lost the man that she would have married…joined, and then known that life wasn't worth it when he wasn't there. I ducked behind a tree and pressed my back to it. I didn't know if it had taken guts to do what she did or it was a simple relinquishment of life. But she had done it, and left what had been in essence a shell for…I slid down the tree and drew up my legs trying to bring my breath under control. I felt like I was going to be sick. I found it to be a good idea and moved enough so I didn't vomit on myself. This was huge, massive. Like the second coming of Andraste even. Oh. Am I? No don't even get ahead of yourself Ana, that would be more insane than this situation and it's already more than my mind can handle.


	7. Chapter 7

I tried to use the whole Zen meditation thing, you know the sound of one hand clapping, tree falling in the woods, all that jazz. It didn't work true, but to form it was the elf's giant ears that had me stepping back from the precipice of a total mental breakdown. Her, my...our? Ears caught every sound. The non-noise of an owl in predatory flight, the hum of flying insects, the noises from the camp behind us. I started to identify and name the sounds. I found I, she? Fuck! We could, her mind a database of each noise. Once the immediate noises were catalogued as such, I tried to remember the sound of the spawn, the shorter nasty genlock, the taller and humanoid Hurlock. I replayed their hissy vocals, the sound of their movement, clad both in armour and pieces of stiffened leather. The not so smooth twang of their arrows. I know I could make this into a strength, use what I…she, we, no! Fuck it, what I had. At the affirmation and lull after the flush of anger, realisation. This time of myself. Of Kane, of my mum. Would they have found my body yet? Was I in a kind of limbo it took a surge of inner strength that I didn't know I had to pull back out of the mire that that direction would take me too. I had more than enough to deal with here and now. The others couldn't trust me, I only now had a skill that they could use, I knew things, more things about the Wardens then even the last surviving ones did. I would have to focus everything on survival. Of not just me but the ones that mattered, Finn and Alistair. Oh and I suppose Morrigan too I guess, until basically the night before the possibility of the end of the world. While playing up to the background of a dalish female elf, not dying, myself and oh yeah the inevitable 'reunion' with Tamlen Ghoul, Zevran of course and zombies. Which while coming up at our next stop, aren't going to be as fun as the Shaun of the Dead ones. All whilst avoiding the sorrow of my own loss. Sounds like a party.

I spun around, a new sound presaging a body. Oh, a short one with a cute and not quite vacant look. Then a grin that lit up the area,

"Sandal?"

He giggled and my heart melted a little.

"Hello."

I offered my hand, carefully wiping at my eyes a little in case any tears had fallen. I'm not sure who turned who, but it was he who guided us back to the camp and the others. Bodahn looked surprised that his 'son' would willingly touch someone else, let alone the crazy elf chick, but he had and was. We stood by the fire a little awkwardly for a few seconds, I think the only reason he dropped my hand was because he had forgotten that he was holding onto it. He wandered off towards their caravan and I stood before the fire, just peering into the flames. Then my knees folded purely of their own accord and I was sitting on the ground, perhaps just a smidgeon too close to the fire to be really comfortable but I didn't move back.

"I apologise for before Ana, I didn't mean to…surprise you."

I turned to look at Leiliana, I could see that the remorse she felt was real, it was all over her pretty face. I did like that she had carefully not said scare or frighten. I had been very much surprised.

"It's fine. I had…wandered away from myself. I was surprised, a bit."

"What were you thinking of?"

It was Finn who spoke. I leant back a little and folded my legs cross legged looking at the doppelganger over the top of flashing flames.

"Another life."

He nodded, I'm not sure if he understood me, but I had a feeling that he was more than likely thinking back to that night he ran from Highever. We were all pretty quiet, though Sten was naturally so. Just a shadow looming from the darkness behind the fire's light. Not really sure as to the time frame of the sitting and staring committee, but Leiliana and Finn stood at the same time, one disappearing with Alistair into the shadow further out from the camp, the red head disappearing into the small tent. Wolf decided for me, falling into a heap at my side. I just leant over and rested my head on his back and closed my eyes. It was pretty comfortable and just before I fell asleep, I remembered this was the first rest I had had since my arrival in Thedas. Ha, arrival my ass.

* * *

Not restful by a long shot. Flashes of memories, mine and Maharial's was shot through with game stills. Nausea inducing at the best times. I felt like the mirror as a Duncan more detailed and handsome than the game character I remembered, lifted a particularly memorable sword and smashed that last remnant of Tamlen. I gasped and clutched my chest, perhaps my heart really was connected to that Tevinter artefact? Until I thought a second later that it had been connected because it had been the last link to where ever or what ever happened to my Tamlen. And the shem had broken it. No wonder the moonlight had been a fascination, perhaps with the Creators I would find Tamlen whole once more. I jerked awake like a motherfucker with epilepsy as I began to step into white moonbeams. My heart was hammering fit to burst out of my chest, cliché I know but nonetheless true. Wolf was long gone, at the moment he was nearly in Finn's lap as the Warden spoke to Alistair. I could see the sweat on his face from where I was, the fire was barely embers so I knew that he had just had an audience with the Archdemon. My movement was enough to break their conversation and they looked at me with twin suspicious looks. Seriously, did they think that my nightmares were linked to his…they totally did! I carefully looked away from them, using my shirt to wipe my face swearing into the linen before standing and moving away from the fire pit. Damn near tripping over Sten who yes glared balefully at me. Fuck you. Though that was purely in my mind never to be spoken to the Qunari who would quite easily rip me in half if he ever caught me, which he goddamn never would. I crouched in a particular dense set of shadows and breathed in the still early morning air. I could smell green and dew and oddly enough the taste of nature. A few birds were starting to awaken, but it would be a while before the dawn chorus really ripped the dawn a new one. Day one over, check. A shit load of crap to hit the fan, oh that'll be spread over the next year or so, depending if I survive. I manically shifted my mind from the whole high potentiality of death and focus on the stars that still shone above me.

* * *

I stood in the leather armour outfit that Leiliana had put together. I'd had to ask the bard to give me a hand, not quite sheepishly. There had been a big grin on her face as she had done so, offering the quiver of arrows she had wrangled, yes wrangled, from Bodahn. It was well made, though the bow was of slightly inferior quality. The sooner we found a scout's bow or summat the better. I managed to stand still waiting for Finn and Alistair to get in their armour. That stuff even looked heavily, like a slightly more portable tank. I would have staggered before the chest plate had descended upon me, but Alistair and Finn both seemed to be more reassured when they were encased within that carapace. Sten was the same, but he didn't offer anyone anything other than distain. I couldn't wait till we met that guy on the shore of Calenhad and he would have the chance to mellow out. Though in order to get there we would have to survive Redcliffe and the descent of zombies at the head of whom reigned a desire demon inside the body of a young boy. Awesome.

* * *

I did it. I did, it was me. Not Finn. Me. It was pretty late in the afternoon by the time we broached the hill and saw Redcliffe below us. I watched as Alistair led Finn away a little, token gesture really. I sidled up in their blind spot. I ignored the vista and waited for it.

"I'm a bastard. My mother was a serving maid in the castle, my father is, was I guess, King Maric."

It whooshed out of him and I was worried for a bit that he would cave in on himself with that little tid bit now free in the world. And I covered in road dust and sweat and grime got it out,

"So you are not just a bastard, but a royal bastard?"

Oh god it just slayed me. I had nearly peed myself when I saw it was actually an option, but now in real life (?). You can't judge me, it was hilarious. Literally. Both men turned to look at me, I guess they thought that no one would actually intrude on their little bonding time. I saw Alistair's mouth quirk a little as he finally took in what I had said.

"Oh, I suppose it does at that."

Finn was more practical. Kinda wished he took after Kane a little in being, well a little less not.

"What would you know about royalty?"

I glared at him, wiping a drop of sweat from my cheek,

"I understand the concept."

I think Alistair was feeling a little, why are mummy and daddy fighting? as Finn and I just glared at each other. He broke it up a little,

"Well, for all the good it did me. Whenever people knew they treated me different. I mean, Cailan did. Hence us being sent to the tower, don't try and tell me that it didn't have bearing on it. Even with the Wardens it was same, well Duncan was the only one who knew, but I swear that it was on his mind whenever I was involved…"

I looked at the man and found myself wondering, once more, what the hell Cailan must have looked like. All dolled up in that golden armour and full of literally the joys of spring and the glorious 'probability' of victory. I zoned back in as Alistair went a bit morose, I think it hit Finn a little like a weight,

"…too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."

"It's not what you really think is it?"

I was a little stunned,

"But what about me?"

Both men seemed to lose whatever train of thought they had been on. I can't believe that I had actually said that, aloud, where people could hear me.

"You?"

Alistair, to the point and spoken a bit like he'd taken a shot to the head.

"What have you got to do with anything?"

Ah Finn, always able to emasculate anyone with your dry wit. Of course I endeavour to recover somewhat.

"If not for Alistair's tricky childhood, and your flight, meeting at Ostagar and my subsequent appearance…you'd be without the skills of the snarky but undeniably useful apostate, the quiet but undeniably terrifying Qunari, the sweet but undeniably vocal Sister and the diminutive but undeniably mysterious dalish. Aah shit, and the proud but undeniably cute Mabari."

The last I added on hurriedly at the nip on the back of the thigh from the bloody dog. I saw Alistair's lips quirk as he tried not to grin or even laugh in front of my words and Finn's face which had frowned deeper as I had listed 'our' companions.

"And of us?"

I squinted a bit as I looked at the wardens, Alistair unconsciously striking a bit of a pose, Finn just crossing his arms. I don't know if he really wanted a reply, but in for a penny, in for a pound right?

"Oh-kay. The Templar bastard, but undeniably royal senior Warden, and the surly but undeniably cocksure noble. No wait, I'll do you again. The cocky but undeniably surly ass-!"

I cut off the last as I focussed just behind the pair and saw the guy…Tomas standing on the bridge. He was looking at us like we were the next coming of Christ. Tears sliding silently from his eyes. I gestured,

"I think he wants to talk to you."

Both wardens turned simultaneously, I could only imagine the looks on their faces. Now I could smell the acrid stench of old fire, old bodies and old fish. Ah Redcliffe, bring it on.


	8. Chapter 8

Currently I stood on the top of a small hut, an awesome view of the battle ground that had been the courtyard before the Chantry. It was chaos and in the midst of midnight, death, zombies outfitted with foot long claws and a desire to do nothing but kill, I had managed to put aside the above and just coolly fire lit arrows into said zombies. It was thanks to that elvish ability, it had to be, because while I'm good under pressure (don't laugh or look at previous evidence), pressure in Redcliffe at this point in time was far beyond I had ever had to fathom back home. I watched as Finn and Alistair had rallied the defenders, barricades managing to divide the monsters into a manageable drip feed. But it was taking a toll on those fighting, men who didn't really have any notion of what to do with swords since the end of the occupation. I had just fired an arrow into a zombie, grinning again at the accomplishment when it sounded. A scream. Nothing that this evening I had not heard before, apart from the fact it was a male child screaming. And I knew exactly who it was. Oh my God. I can't believe I had forgotten him. I don't know if anyone has had that feeling. Like a livewire was running down with my spinal cord, just a bolt of lightning inside my body alight and just so awake and aware. Lightning flashed inside my bones and I just reacted. I dropped the bow, a hand yanking at the strap holding my quiver to my side and it fell to the roof top. I gauged the leap in a second, and took barely a running step before I jumped over the small distance between houses. I jumped over chimneys and uneven roof tops until I knew I was at the right house. Mostly knew it was the right house. Redcliffe and the stilted houses had proven to be larger than I remembered in the game, a lot more detailed and numerous in number. Forcing my thoughts to the side I decided to go with gut reaction and instinct, it was that had helped me get across to the boy's current residence in such a short time. I let my elvish body move how it would, just directing it where the hell I wanted it to go. The window wasn't at this moment open, but it was the only point of entry I had, the door barricaded to the zombies. Well hopefully still barricaded to the zombies. I pushed feet first into the hinged shutters, the force made me wince, but enough momentum and weight was behind that move that they broke inwards and deposited me on my ass, hard, on the top story of that house. Except Bevin was on the bottom one, in a wardrobe with monsters. Shit. I got to my feet and had nearly left the room before I spun and saw the chest. I had remembered at my shit landing I had a knife. The Lothering knife. That was it now I had divulged my bow. But since I had forgotten the boy, Finn had not convinced or paid the lad for the sword so it was still here. The fact that I had no training what so ever was unimportant, it was a sharp pointy metal stick and would be better than witty retorts to save the boy. I didn't waste time searching for a key, I picked up an ornamental statue, it was pretty heavy and would do the trick, I supposed. I gritted my teeth and pounded at the lock. Literally to death, as the metal bent and finally broke apart he screamed again. My hearing became that and the sawing breath that yanked in and out of my lungs. I lifted the lid, grabbed the sword and was running down the stairs in an instant.

Then it all happened down quite a long tunnel of vision. I grabbed the bannister and leapt becoming an obstacle to the zombies that had managed to crack open the door. God I hoped I would be a live obstacle. They were hideous, just parodies of the people they had been. Flesh was slack and sort of dripping off faces, eyes were thick looking like the liquid inside had hardened. But the noise they made was the worst thing, sometimes hissing, sometimes a disembodied moaning, but when they opened and closed their mouths their teeth clacked together and it did more to freak me out then they're actually quite fast shuffling towards me. The sword, whatever it was, was light in my hands however and I found myself using it like a demented fencer. It wasn't suited to the style any more than I was and the bloody monsters were not going down.

"Fuck you, you fucken fuck. Die."

Ah eloquence my old friend. I resorted to a pretty wild swing. It connected with a pair of legs, hewing them off at the knee. As it collapsed, a little slower but still going for quite literally my jugular a little kernel of confidence grew. Not so much that I suddenly learnt how to use a sword, but enough that the fear died a little and I could try something else instead of rude little pokes at chests. A lunge from a zombie, that conveniently had claws, I parried! Parried! And I would describe my backhand as lazy, though it severed through sinew and neck bits. Again, it didn't die, but its movements were jerky and lacked any sort of coordination so it allowed me to concentrate on the last whole one and the three quarter one that had been my first sort of victory.

So a smashing first duel became carnage pretty quickly. Bevin thought it was a grand idea to open the wardrobe door. I, as fate would have it, was standing quite close to the door and received a solid door to the back of the head connection.

"Back inside. Get back inside!"

I didn't wait for him to do what I yelled. Clamping a hand to the latest wound I kicked the door closed and tried to breathe through the pain while fending off the monster. Who had this moment was steadily overpowering me. Sawing breaths had become terrified yanks of air. I prayed to Maharial the first, which she would know what to do. Somehow her skills as a hunter would have her knowing exactly what to do in an elf versus zombie duel. I fell, forgetting the shorter zombie, again smacking my head on the wardrobe, fuck whoever thought wood was a great material for heavy furniture. I lost my grip on the sword. As I scrambled to find my feet, which was bloody difficult with a head suddenly filled with cotton wool and an arm that had gone dead from the shoulder down, I forced my left hand to grab the knife. I found it, spun it and sank it through the eye hole of the hissing mostly legless zombie. It had been accompanied by a prayer to Falon'din. Which hadn't really been my first deity to pray to, but whatever I or he had done had the zombie suddenly dead. I yanked the knife free, resolutely ignoring the stuff on the blade, and looked at the last. I'm not sure when the undead suddenly started bleeding red, but it made me feel good and I pretended that they could feel pain too. I scissored my weapon across its eyes, gaining the ground it gave up against what I would term a ferocious onslaught. I tripped, but didn't fall, over the decapitated zombie. I stooped to stab that one in the head, and with a vindictive streak that I will say was totally Maharial's, swiped and took one of its claws hands as a weapon. I promised myself that I could vomit after I swapped the knife into my sore hand and proceeded to poke holes in my undead enemy. It was going pretty well until what I guessed was Bevin tried to exit his hidey hole again. The zombie seemed to find the boy better prey and darted around me with agility it hadn't really shown before. I was about to do something that I didn't think I had in me. I dropped the zombie hand, thank god, and grabbed the sword that I had, yes tripped over. My brain decided to go for the smaller target of the head, practical as ever I see. I lunged into a run and proceeded to jump over a flailing undead corpse, and run the tip of the very sharp sword into the zombie's head, through the zombie's head, out of the zombie's head and into the wardrobe, whilst yelling out something that I am damn sure was in elvish that was along the lines of,

"Take that you undead motherfucker."

Only after having rammed the sword into and through the wardrobe did I stop to think about the probability of hitting Bevin. I thought it, vented a little of frustration by booting the severed head against the wall before approaching the wardrobe again.

"da'len?"

I ventured a monster brain and guts stained hand to the door and psyched myself up to reveal. Two things happened. It opened and a young terrified boy zoomed out of it and into my arms. He was like a limpet, skinny arms wrapped around my neck, doing a terrific job of strangling me, and his legs wrapped around my waist and locked around my back. I was at a loss as to what to do before my arms responded. One looped around his neck, the other I scooped under his butt to help hold onto his hug.

We didn't say anything, I just listened to his breath catch at every centimetre of his lungs and throat as the tears made his shoulders shake. I straightened my back and looked towards the door. I could hear the sound from out there now, a ragged cheer. I knew that a few tears of my own leaked from sore smoke reddened eyes, but at least the night was over. I stepped over bodies and slid out from the crack between the splintered frame and ruined door, heading towards the courtyard and hopefully all of my comrades.

* * *

_You know, just as a PS, loving people following this story, but I also love reviews (hint, hint) and just for my own gratification, awesome Wyolake likes my screen name. A whoo hoo. Dont you judge me, instead check out their stuff._


	9. Chapter 9

Jeez wayne. Thanks to those who continued to read this. Been going through an incredible dry spell. Unless you're an essay about Minoan architecture and such. But here it is. The spur a wondering comment made by Ann. Hopefully I've broke through at least some of my issues. Here it is:

* * *

_Through a lightening dawn Finn and Alistair looked around them. Bodies of zombies, thank the Maker, met the eye and though there were splashes of red from injuries, some of them critical, there didn't seem to be many, if any bodies of the villagers. Alistair finally managed to grin and looked at his brother warden. They looked as shattered as the others, and though they took the comradely slapped shoulders from those they had fought with, their eyes were scouting the courtyard for their own companions. Before they caught the eyes of any the Chantry doors were struck and the air was filled with the shouted names and cries of loved ones. Sten loomed out of the dark, his sword covered in gore and lackadaisically braced on a broad shoulder, at his side Morrigan, sweat stained but with her eternal scowl lifting a lip. Of all things that Wolf could have been doing, he was lying quite happily at the feet of Murdock tongue out and lolling, the mayor still looked stunned, half disgusted at the bodies of people he no doubt recognised but had helped kill. Leiliana appeared; sweat wiped but still breathing heavily, eyes earnest as she looked over at the others._

"_Maharial?"_

_She asked, picking up first on the one who was not present. Eyes and heads turned to the roof top where she had been seen last, but nothing stood there._

"_Crap."_

_Finn said, turning back to scan the flood of relieved humanity before and around him._

"_Bevin! Oh Maker, Bevin!"_

_A pretty but thoroughly distraught girl had collapsed on the stairs of the Chantry, still calling the name of her lost one. The revered Mother knelt beside her, grabbing her hands and consoling her. Though her shouts died out, every so often within her sobs the name could be heard repeated. Leiliana looked like she too was about to cry, her hands twisting around each other as she looked at the girl. As she turned back to speak to Finn, the red head caught sight of movement from within the silent houses. Her weapons were redrawn, at that the others were ready. Their sudden ferocity drove some villagers to scream, others to look around as if another tide of zombies had appeared. Instead what Leiliana had seen was the awkward shape of Maharial, the boy, Bevin, still holding tight to her, his head resting on her shoulder. She slowly walked towards the large group of people, her mouth moving as she whispered to the boy. He lifted his head, slightly loosening his arms. As he focussed he said a name. The girl sobbing on the stairs lifted her head and managed to find her feet. At his name on her lips he released the elf and slid to the ground to run towards his sister._

I couldn't believe the utter relief that flooded me as I saw the others. My eyes automatically drawn first to Alistair and Finn, to Leiliana then Morrigan and Sten. I didn't release my hold on Bevin, but I spoke to him,

"I can see your sister, she is crying for you."

I felt him lift his head, my neck wet from his tears. As he slid down to sprint towards his sister I felt suddenly bereft and I realised that adrenaline and just getting Bevin back to Kaitlyn had been the thing propelling me. I shuffled to a halt and watched the boy just leap into his sister's arms. I blinked and it took a long time to open them again. Leiliana had appeared at my side, blue eyes peering earnestly into mine. Was that worry on her face? I had saved the boy; the time for worry had been and gone.

"And you?"

I got out; it was enough for her to understand what I was talking about. She nodded but grabbed my shoulder with a suddenness that made me a little pissed. I flinched back, but found that Morrigan was there, her hand sliding to grip the same place as Leiliana.

"What?"

I lowered my head to try and see what was wrong. There was a lot of red and my sluggish mind clicked. Oh, it's mine. I blanched and lifted my head to see Bevin and Kaitlin looking at me as my knees buckled. Didn't feel the ground, but I could feel Morrigan's hands which felt both hot and cold. It seemed as good a time as ever for a nap, so I closed my eyes.

* * *

It knew it was a dream. Because I was sitting in one of my old classrooms. Around it almost transparent instruments sat in their cradles, a different kind of audience. I was perched on a tiny stool and I think I was waiting for something. I turned around, automatically thinking of the roofless 'hell' of the Fade. But the roof was solid; the holed panels that were exactly the same as I remembered from my…before life? I thought that that would be enough to kinda jolt me awake, but nada. The instruments were as beautiful and tantalising as ever, but I couldn't move. I jerked my eyes down to my shoulder when I remembered what I had done. By God I've been shot! Well no, but still partly appropriate and sounded better than, By God, I've been viciously wounded by a zombie with a bad nail maintenance plan! There wasn't anything there, just a whole sleeve of my smashing pumpkins tee, no seep or stain of blood. I turned towards the door as I heard footsteps heading towards the room and in the faint reflection of the glass insert; I saw blonde hair and the purple eyes of Maharial staring back at me. Then the door opened and Kane's head popped around the corner. Now I could move, I came to an angry stand, but didn't stalk towards him to punch him like I wanted, but I knew death was in my gaze,

"Fuck you Kane."

His eyebrows angled down all hurt, but he advanced into the room. Instead of being dressed in jeans and a singlet, he wore armour, silver coloured gauntlets and leather gloves. Dark black stains on the front of the armour, from a night of battling putrid demons.

Seeing that jolted me awake, eyes immediately open and focussed on the stained glass far above me, casting the makeshift beds some still occupied with a yellow and rose tint. I looked at the eye shape dominant in the design, flames erupting from the oval. If anything it reminded me of the eye of Sauron, right genre I guess, but wrong universe. It made me smirk; I bet the Creators were having a field day with my mind at the moment. I sighed, rolled to my, uninjured side (never thought I'd say that) and sat up. Very slowly. The whole time not looking at my shoulder or really acknowledging it was there, but I did register that it felt heavy and kinda…blunt.

"Maharial?"

I didn't turn my head, instead letting the speaker come into my vision. I was surprised at her smile, and how it seemed relieved, but the small grin I gave in reply was genuine.

"_Hello Leiliana, I guess I have you and Morrigan to thank for the fact that I did not bleed out."_

So I had decided on a slight amount of humour to defuse the fear of dying that had surged last night. Only when the blank look on Leiliana's otherwise pretty face persisted did I realise that I had spoken in elvish. A language I had no idea I could speak, until last night. I froze for a minute, unsure as to how to undo, or to bring my tongue under normal, English…oh ho. Wait a second or a minute, was I even speaking English? I could feel the pressure begin to rise in my eye balls, and with ferocious will and a thought prayer to Falon'din (another thing that seemed to becoming a common habit) I mustered my tongue and my thoughts and tried again, tentatively.

"Is everyone alright?"

She took my smile as a sort of apology for she slid fully into a kneel, her hands placed on her knees.

"Oh yes, a little tired, but yes they are fine. We are all very worried about you, especially when you appeared out of the night and the smoke, carrying that little boy. The villagers are still speaking about it you know? The Revered Mother said that the Maker had answered the prayers of that girl through you."

The Maker, yeah not today. I chuckled,

"Not the Maker. Just me. Come on, give me a hand."

I could tell she wanted to argue from the glint in her eye, but I kept my arm up and she eventually gave in. I was thankful that she helped me slowly; the distance from a mostly horizontal position to a mostly vertical one had never seemed so massive. I thanked Leiliana silently for the fact she stayed quiet and still for a while letting me get my balance back. I knew I would have to ask her about the village and about my shoulder but once my balance was got I lifted my eyes and let them sweep the Chantry. There were a few others wounded, I recognised a body asleep close by to where I had been. Morrigan. Who looked surprisingly not evil with her eyes closed in sleep. I did find myself tiptoeing after Leiliana towards the doors of the Chantry though. Just in cases. Outside the air held much less the stench of menace, though that of rotten bodies still lay heavy within it. But I could smell the breeze off the lake and I found myself leaning into it.

"How bad?"

"Your arm?"

"The village and that I suppose. Did we lose many?"

I was glad that my voice was unbroken, I don't think until that moment that I had registered that actual people had died. That even in the midst of last night I had still possessed a video game 'restart' mentality.

"Enough. That boy, Tomas, at the end. A few others, but even for that loss we saved many that to be honest I don't think thought would see the light of morning. Including that boy Bevan."

I cut her off before she could go on about the entrance and the light and bring a lute into it and song and dance.

"Can I use my arm?"

"I think that Morrigan would wish to look at it when she awakens, but it is much better now than it was."

I turned towards the Chantry again, now was as good a time as any to wake the witch up. But the reappearance of Alistair and Finn, both thoroughly cleaned though not rested, heading towards us and the church halted that idea.

"You're up."

Genius. I think it coloured my face a little though I was careful not to say the words. I guess my mind was still superimposing my dream and Kane over my now. Finn saw it and frowned. Well frowned harder.

"I am. I hear that you did well. You go to talk to Teagan?"

"_We_ go to see the Bann, yes."

"_Fuck you_."

Now then, that actually did come out. But in elvish which I cannot repeat for the life of me. But I think my tone well and truly conveyed my reaction to Finn's sour words.

"Ah, well yes. We do go to see both the Bann and Teagan."

"To broach the topic of broaching the castle, as it were?"

"Yes."

Finn literally stalked off, leaving us three behind. Alistair looked after the man and then back to Leiliana and I. Before he could explain Finn's behaviour or apologise for it I found myself speaking.

"I see, no sleep compounding the issue of last night. You'd better catch up to him Alistair."

"Aren't you coming?"

I had lost all interest in putting up a fight against Kane…Finn. My two words to him seemed to have been a release of all tension regarding our weird and mostly angry relationship. I shrugged, suddenly aware that Alistair was damp but clean, and Leiliana was nearly sparkling in the morning sunlight.

"I think I'll go to the lake."

I walked off, I don't know what their facial expressions were, just leaving them to it. I knew that they would hurry after Finn; after all they had an infiltration mission to plan. I just wanted the gunk of zombie bodies and blood, my own, off me. And yes a perverse interest into the wound I had received. Whether it would scar, but mostly to look at it and try to totally yank myself into the real world that I had fallen into. I don't think using the word 'suddenly' totally applied anymore.

* * *

I sat on the end of the jetty; it was only a hand span away from the surface of the water. My feet were already well soaking but it was taking a while to get my nerve back from whatever hidey hole it had found.

"Do you think you'll be long?"

I leaned over the water, half expecting to see a fish or seal with Morrigan's face. Nothing. So I leant back and looked into the sky, no ravens with her smirk on their bills, beaks…heads. The witch sat next to me, but didn't draw her feet from her boots to soak beside me. Probably didn't want me to see her cloven hooves. Ha! The snort I gave was received with a curled eyebrow, but even though she would probably cuff me if I told her, she wouldn't get the reference, being an atheist and everything. Instead she crossed her ankles,

"Are you going to let me look at it?"

I undid the laces of the shirt and drew it off, a sort of 'protest' or something, I'm not too sure really. But I was super-duper glad that I had that odd band bra thing on that I wore under the armour to avoid nipple chaffing (I heard from Leiliana it sucks, which made sense. PS Morrigan doesn't wear a bra. But I could see her in nipple tassels. Uhm, carry on.) Her fingers were hard as she, yeah I'll say yanked, the bandage away from the site of zombie carnage. I couldn't see her face so I have no idea what to expect. Apparently it was okay, because she yanked the cover all the way off and ran a nail over what felt like the epicentre of doom. I very bravely mewed my disapproval.

"Would have been better not to get struck at all."

"Yes, I imagine it t'would. It t'was also a choice 'tween myself and a child."

I had gone for a piss take. But even as the words fell out of my mouth, it faded away.

"Turned out not to be choice after all."

The last sentence was a whisper. I was learning stuff about myself all the time.

I thought Morrigan would leave me after that. Hell I thought that she would leave straight after checking out my shoulder. But she stayed. She was probably bored. Or she was as weary of Sten as I was. Okay, scared. I was scared of Sten. The sound of footsteps approaching had me pulling my feet from the water and standing. One hand angling for the hole in my shirt. I offered the other to Morrigan. She stared at it for a few moments before taking it. I don't think I had really reflected on the childhood that she had or hadn't had. Deep in the forest of the Wilds, with crazy witch face Flemeth. I hadn't thought of a lack of friendship, and I suppose neither had she. If you don't know something how can you miss it? It would require more musing upon, later. The footsteps had been the mayor's…can you have a mayor and an Arl? Any-hoo, his gruff beard/moustache combo still made me grin.

"Hello Murdoch."

He stuttered a little. I put this down to the rather skimpily clad witch/woman next to me.

"Uh, there's a bit of a ruckus coming from the mill house."

"Let me guess, it would be the illustrious Alistair being the ruckiest?"

Can't say it was one of Morrigan's best. But I knew who was at the root of the disturbance. Morinth. No wait the other one, Isolde. Couldn't stand her in the game, real life wasn't shaping up to be too hot either.

I didn't really remember it being this steep, but while 'I' wasn't puffing, the interior mental me was. Like a train. But I did take perverse joy in the fact, though damp and bare footed…feeted? I was looking quite a lot better than the newcomer. Her gown had been lovely but was now stained and more than a little ruffled, her hair was dragged back out of her face, I suppose she was kinda pretty. And I feel a bit bad, though her face was full of worry and haggard, I still felt a rush of just ick, for her. Apparently, more to my shock, our appearance was greeted with an opening of the sacred circle of friends to allow me and Morrigan entrance (I swear she had followed me just to rip the shit out of someone, God I hoped it was Isolde. I'm a meanie.) But not only that, Leiliana's face shone relief (for moi?) and ready for it, even Finn, why yes Finn, looked at me, well mostly with the look that kind of said, someone with a modicum of sense. Which is odd, the fact that he thought that not that I did actually contain sense. Teagan gave a little half bow to me, that wasn't missed by Isolde, but she bit her tongue. I smiled at him,

"_Aneth'ara_ Teagan."

"Teagan, you must come with me."

A subtle ploy to get all attention on her. It kinda worked; Leiliana took the time to lean over to me.

"Arlessa Isolde. She wants Teagan to go back to the castle with her."

Succinct. I shrugged,

"Sounds like an ambush."

There it was. Derision, dragging up her Orleisian nostril. She 'deigned' to look at me.

"Such impertinence!"

"What? For an elf?"

Oooooo. It was great. Morrigan smiled, Leiliana grinned. Alistair was shocked; Finn's face went even more like marble, Teagan I swear his eyes were in hysterics, Isolde though clambered over her tongue.

"Wh, wh…No. But."

I smiled. I wanted to laugh, but then the smile was gone. A vision of Bevin as the Demon. This was not a game anymore. It was real. Isolde might be a bitch, in a shit storm of her own creation but it was her son and her husband. Shit's real.

"Teagan, if you propose what I think you're going too, you are not expendable."

Teagan looked at me, brow slightly furrowed. He nodded and spoke quietly to Isolde, she clung to his hand before walking off. The guard at her side as worn as the woman he protected.


	10. Chapter 10

I had waited at the gates with Perth and his remaining men. Relegated there by none other than Finn of course. But I knew where he was coming from, Leiliana was better with the slim daggers crossed on her back, arrows might not be of as much use in the tunnels, it was Alistair's home, somewhat, and yeah he was still pissed at me. Still. But I had done what he had asked, but I could see Teagan's eyes on the play between us and Alistair to some extent, I fancied I could also see the cogs in his head turning, questions oozing from his ears. A Dalish? Why? What is she to them? God damn it I knew I would have to talk to the others, namely the Wardens about what to do about me. But as soon as I saw the Revenant between the grid like barricade of the gates everything else was irrelevant. A suit of scratched armour, metal wings on each side of a battered helmet. Apart from the patches of bone showing through chinks and gaps in armour and the giant sword that would make anyone cringe; it was the pair of red glowing horrible eyes just made me feel cold. Like my very core was shaking. And I knew that it wouldn't be the worst that I would see. By any stretch of the imagination. But I also knew he would be a son of a bitch to kill, especially this early on with so much more to do. Even perhaps with the men who stood with me? His armour stats were high, and with those skeletons around…

"Stop it Wolf, you'll be needed in a second. Just hang out with Perth for minute."

I pushed the hound off with a foot, it begrudgingly went, sitting on Perth's foot and glaring at me, which I felt physically like a punch to the gut, there's certainly something more to mabari than the average dog. Oh, is that a plan in my head? I knew that the revenant would use a type of magic grab, nothing but a very hard gate to splatter against. But could he if I didn't let him see me. I moved to Perth and quickly laid out my plan, he nodded yeah begrudgingly but he and his men pressed out of sight, their backs against the stone walls leaving me alone peering around at the skeletons I could place. I would need to be fast; I whispered a prayer to Falon'din and wiggled my fingers. I even blew on my nails, not sure why but I'd seen them do it in movies. I spun out, the first arrow drawn and set to string. My vision seemed to tunnel and zero in on the first. The arrow punctured through its chest and as it imploded the next was in the air. But two was enough and I spun behind the wall, heart hammering at the escape from the gaze of the demon. A few to go.

* * *

Is it wrong that as we walk through the massive doors of the castle and towards the Demon Spawn and a seriously fucked up Teagan, I have 'Thrift Shop' in my head? It's like I have my pimp walk on. Super entirely inappropriate. I tried to emulate the others as soon as I realised I was an nth away from singing out the lyrics, but my conscious effort bled out as my eyes fell upon the definitely not-Connor. It stood with small hands on his hips, imperiously surveying his mind fucked uncle. My gait instantly changed to one of weariness. Each foot placed carefully, my hand hovering over my dagger. I absolutely forbade any drawing of the weapon, but it felt the epitome of stupid to go relatively unarmed in this place. In Her place. I say this even as I remember that around me are a veritable horde of armed men. Literally. Covered in plate armour, faces in deep frowns. I didn't want to let the Demon out of my vision, it seemed stupid to do so, not sure why. I think it's like some kind of predator thing. But I used my peripheral vision to check on those around me. On my left Leiliana shifted slightly, it could have been a flinch, perhaps she could feel too the malice that simply laced the air. Morrigan was behind me, bringing up the rear but I swear I could hear her ears prick up as we saw it. Perth, by the way I love him - suave as accent, chivalrous and a dab hand with a sword and he called me my lady *blush*, gripped his shield harder, disgust in the line of his lips as he saw what was happening to his Bann. Dinna blame him really, the Desire demon was making him look like a douche. An aside though, it's a bit weird but he can fill out a suit of armour, if you know what I mean.

His eyes were black pits. Even as I thought it I knew it was cliché, but there was nothing else to describe it. It was more a feeling, rather than an overt difference in the boy. But just looking at him I knew that there was no way that I would ever be able to think he was anything other than a demon. But I know he must have fooled Isolde to some extent, maybe others. I quickly looked at those next to me, Morrigan was like me, though I was definitely not showing near the same interest that was in her eyes, Leiliana looked shocked and pitiful. I couldn't see Finn's face, but Alistair could see that Connor was no longer his cousin but something more. A vicious grin lifted the boy's lip, never an expression I would have ever thought to see on a young lad's face, no wait ever want to see. Even when he answered Finn's questions, each time disseminating them and having a dig at the Cousland and Alistair who stood at his side, his voice was like nails down a chalkboard. Everything screamed unnatural. Fuck, I wished that I had managed to talk to Jowan, they hadn't said that they had even found him alone what they had done to him, as close mouthed as they had been erupting from the cellar. I knew it was going to be my turn soon, and it was with surprising coolness and calmness that I met un-Connor's eyes as he made a quip about my ears. Cock.

"…cut their ears off and fed them to the dogs, they were gnawing for days."

As I met those eyes I felt a whisper from Maharial the one who used to be, she had seen such before in the mirror, imagined in the eyes of my Tamlen. This was nothing new, scary, terrifying even, but known. And Desire and their dirty manipulation was the last thing that was going to fool to me right now. I also knew her shit, his? Real form. Scaly piece of shit.

"Who are you?"

"Someone who is going to enjoy ripping you from the boy."

It garnered a laugh from the demon. But I realised, I suddenly had power. It knew I was different, alien to what it knew. Whatever it knew. I took a step forward, no idea where my courage came from, but I needed to fool it. Get it to leave so we would have time to regroup. Anything to gain time, and Finn wasn't saying the right things to make it go.

"What are you?"

I smiled, a scary smile. Small, barely there. But it was in my eyes. Not fear, not what was circulating in my veins totally replacing blood, but that there was more to know. I was an unknown. Not human, despite being an elf…oh apparently unable to be manipulated. Apparently not like the others. For the first time since I had 'landed' in the Wilds I felt powerful. I had options, value. Not just a bullet sponge, oops, arrow sponge.

"_Ma emma harel."_

It flinched. Perhaps only I saw it. Then I did something I don't think it was ready for. I ignored it and looked at Isolde. Taking in the tears that racked down her cheeks, lips swollen even as she bit at them in worry. Finally she saw me looking at her, pleading in her eyes, even moving to stretch her hands to me in supplication. To me.

"So, he is the demon you spoke of."

"No! Maker no, he is my son."

No dear, it is so obvious he is not. Isolde could see those words in my gaze and she fell to her knees, hands grasping at her stomach and chest as if to keep in her breaking heart. Then I remembered what the only 'cure' was for a possession. Death. Even if it was of an innocent. And as I looked back to the Demon, it wasn't. It was Connor. As if the demon had fallen away. Now it was a frail, tired and terrified child. Purple bruises from no sleep, sagging as if the strings that had held it up had been severed.

"Mother?"

It was weak, but it was the truth. Isolde was still for a barely a second before she had folded Connor into her arms. He relaxed into them like he had finally found safe haven. And it was this. This. This I had known with my mother. That simple release and utter security that comes with being within your mother's arms. I wouldn't have that again. I would not have protection that only a mother can give. Fury blazed in me, tripling as I saw the demon take him again. He pushed Isolde away so hard she sprawled to the ground, but still she reached for him. I leant forward letting my anger at what the demon was taking from them both, and yeah what I had lost, just utterly coat my words. Fuck him fearing me.

"I am going to kill you."

Isolde's absolute sobs were the only sounds in the room. All breath was held, and surprisingly there was no flash and crackle of sparks as the Demon and I just looked at each other. And then, there it was. All limbs and with some unknown emotion, it ran. Somehow I had managed to drive it away, thankfully. But yeah, the whole let my minions cover my escape thing. Finn's shout was hoarse but undeniable in its order,

"Do not kill Teagan."

Like that would ever happen. But he was pulling no punches, well sword swipes that for being enthralled by a Demon had not dulled his skill. I side stepped, ducked and yanked an arrow from my quiver all at the same time. For all trying to save Teagan I wasn't sure as to the orders regarding the other guards who were also trying to kill us. Until I saw Perth strike one first in the stomach with the edge of his shield before smashing his hand, inside his fingers still clasping a very hard sword hilt, into their nose. Which of course smeared the afore mentioned body part over the rest of his face. But also had the effect of thundering him into unconsciousness. I decided to take his cue, though as I ducked a swipe from Teagan again whether I could do it. I slid away from Teagan, letting Alistair try to look after that box of nah ah, still with the arrow held in my hand, not enough room to sidle away from the melee around me let alone find a target in a rolling maul that wasn't on my side. Darting my head from side to side I tried to find an in. In the game they didn't go for Isolde. No such qualms now I see. She had huddled into the hearth stones of the fire, trying to make herself smaller, though clinging to hot bricks didn't seem like a good idea. Guards that had crossbows, not being so indiscriminate as to whom they fired at, found her a much better target and dropped their ranged weapons to yank stained blades from sheaths.

"Leiliana, help me."

I yelled, even as I leapt over a downed guard and tried to take the stairs in one leap without fucking it up and meeting the fire face first. I skidded on old blood not quite hardened but congealed enough for a slide that actually helped me get between the cowering Isolde and a falling sword. Good place to be then. Leiliana is fast, but not even she was that good. But it turns out I had a bit of breathing room. I fell back onto Isolde, pushing her down somewhat under my elvish weight, letting me have an awesome view of a guard in the process of smiting me. But where Teagan had his smarts, these guys had less, or the Guerrins were in shit if their guards were this dumb all the time. He was in a good position to hit me, but he'd let the falling sword get too close to the fire and the tip dug into the bricks lining the hearth. I took the time to roll and push Isolde out of the way. It wasn't Leiliana who came. It was Wolf. He just literally barrelled into the guard sending him flying into the back wall. Not sure if his brains smacked out at the strike into the stone, but I'd heard the crack of ribs breaking even under the armour he wore. I'll admit I was unsteady as I tried to gain my feet, and even tried to rally my head back into the fight, but it was over. Perth and his knights were standing over the bodies of the guards, some alive, but I couldn't believe they had all been put down without the death of a few. More added to the demon's tally.

I didn't care if it was mean spirited that I didn't help Isolde find her feet. I was just at the point of not giving a shit and my brain was still pouring adrenaline into my blood. My heart rate was entirely too fast, like it was gonna explode out my mouth or something. I settled for hitching a hip on the hearth, ignoring the heat and the flames just trying to slow down my breathing and heart rate, for whatever good that would do me. I was able to pat Wolf on the head as he trolloped over to me and tried to climb into my lap even as I was standing. He settled for sitting on my feet and drooling on my leg. I guessed he'd deserved it.

"My lady?"

I looked towards Isolde but the hand wasn't extended to her, I twisted my head back and saw the gauntleted hand offered to me. I followed the stained bronze plate back to the face looking at me with…you know I'm not too sure. I took it though, not sure why I wasn't a tear stained puddle on the ground, manhandled there by an elf. Then I knew where I had seen that expression before. Opening my eyes to look at the audience of a recital. I had impressed. Perth nodded at me; I guess the title had been a question.

"Oh, uhm. Good. I'm okay, but it's Maharial. Is Teagan alright?"

I dropped his hand, just utterly denying the blush to flare. Damn chivalry and my genetic dispossession to be turned on a little by it! The Bann was lying prone, but still seemed to be breathing which was positive. There was though significant swelling over his, well most of his face. Probably courtesy of a shield moving at speed. Morrigan leant against a wall, arms crossed over the very ample bosom. Seems no one thought to ask her to check him out.

"Morrigan, could you see to Teagan and check on the other guards?"

That eyebrow quirk that I was coming to know so well arched. I tried to riposte with a smile slash grimace. Did the trick, but I think it could come back on me later, like a lime milkshake. I think it was terribly obvious to everyone that she was an apostate at this late stage in the game, but nothing was said as the blue healing light welled and Teagan's eyes flickered. I don't think anyone was gonna call the Chantry.

* * *

_Ma emma harel - _You should fear me.

Courtesy of DragonAge wikia for the elven translation.


End file.
